Chapter 16 – Parallel Healing

One year later.

Children’s laughter rang through the courtyard of the city’s new art therapy center.

Elaine stood by a mural wall, paintbrush in hand, watching as bright colors bloomed beneath tiny fingers. A phoenix stretched across bricks, surrounded by stars, leaves, and firelight.

“Miss Anna!” a boy shouted. “We’re out of red!”

She laughed. “Then mix orange and pink. Make your own.”

He grinned and ran off.

This place had been her dream.

Now, it was her legacy.

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At night, she wrote essays under a pseudonym.

*On autonomy. On forgiveness that didn’t require reunion. On grief without shame.*

Her latest piece—*“Healing Is Not a Circle, It’s a Road With Exits”*—had just gone viral.

Lawmakers cited her words in a new child advocacy bill.

She declined interviews.

Her voice was loud enough through the ink.

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Across the ocean, James lived quietly.

No penthouse. No board meetings.